The Lone Rider

Prolouge

I was nine when my father was murdered.

My sister walked beside me on the boardwalk, her hand clutching mine, desperate for any comfort, even from her younger sister. She had trails of tears down her face, and flushed skin. We walked back from the graveyard where we had freshly buried our father. 

He was a quiet man, a strong one too, I remembered, as he always used to work night and day to plow the fields. Our mother was caught in the depths of childbirth as soon as the funeral began. She told us to see the funeral through, while she delivered my new sibling.

We walked quicker still, making our way back to our small home. The town was just dirt and dried up wood, ironically named Waterspring. The boardwalk was full of people. Boots clanking around, skirts swishing, and loud men with southern drawls much like my own, yelling drunkenly at each other. But, I hardly heard anthing over my sorrow. 

My father was a kind man too, he never would hurt anyone, so it made no sense that someone would hurt him. But, someone did, and I swore that I would find out who and why, someone would do such a thing.

His body was carved with calculated precision, making small cuts so he would die slowly. He was chocked with a rope too. The murderer had pulled the rope tighter around his neck with every cut he made, so my father could have the panic set in, and finally give up. A boy that was in my grade found his body near the Old Willow Creek while ditching school.

It utterly destroyed my mother. She barely could preform simple bodily functions, she didn't eat or sleep, thus endangering the life of the baby. But, today she seemed to be almost...normal. It was strange, the day of her husband's funeral, and yet she was calm. But I dismissed it as my mother's way of coping.

We leaved on the edge of town, almost beyond town lines in a little house that reminded me more of a little shed than a home. The door to the house was slightly ajar, and I could hear my mother's shrill screams. I held tighter to my sister, and we stopped in front of our rickety porch.

My sister Anna, gripped my hand fiercely. She was fifteen then, just growing into womanhood. She looked just like Momma, she shared her crisp blond hair and bright blue eyes. I looked like father, I had his red hair and lacy green eyes.

Anna bit her lip and took a brave step toward our house, tugging me along with  her. We stepped onto the semi-rotten porch and pushed the wood door open. 

Mother was lying on the bed, her face contorted with pain. Blood was seeping onto the sheets, and her eyes looked hazed over. Mrs. Cloud, the town's midwife, stood on the end of the bed, her forehead soaked with a profusion of sweat. 

"Push, Sarah! Come on, push!" Mrs. Cloud yelled. I was scared, so scared. I snatched my hand away from Anna's and ran out of the house. Momma's screams chased after me.

I ran until I was breathless, until I couldn't stand anymore. I colapsed onto the dirt, struggling to breathe. All the blood, all the screams, all the...pain. I saw it replay itself in my head. 

I stayed there for awhile, waiting for it to end. Why would someone go through childbirth if it hurt so much? I promised myself that I would never have any children, not after what I just  saw.

Midday turned into evening, still I waited. I didn't want to go back to all that blood, it reminded me of Father. Would father want me to flee, instead of greet my new brother or sister with open arms?  

I got up from the ground, and tried to figure out where I was. Judging from where the Church Steeple was, I was a little west from my home. I hurriedly walked back. Mother was going to be weak after this, and the baby was going to need to be taken care of. Who was going to do that if mother was too sick?

As soon as I saw the house, I ran full force to it. I heard no screaming. I jumped onto the porch and knocked the door wide open. 

Anna held a baby in her arms. It was wrapped in a little blanket and its head was covered with little blond hair. But, what really shocked me was that Anna was crying again. I looked over to the bed. Mother's eyes stared emptily at me, her mouth agape, and body stiff. Mrs. Cloud pulled a white sheet over her body slowly, glancing at me with a pained expression.

"S-she ain't...she ain't!" I stuttured. It couldn't be. My father, now my mother...

Mrs. Cloud gulped. "I am so sorry Jolene." She hugged me tightly, not letting go for a long while.

"Jolene, I am so sorry...."

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